


Lost and Found

by Emls479



Category: Dororo (Anime 2019)
Genre: Crying, Fluff, Gen, Hugging, Jukai is a good parent, Prosthetic Limbs, Reunions, amputation mention, everything ends well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 11:51:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emls479/pseuds/Emls479
Summary: Jukai and Hyakkimaru are reunited. And even though Hyakkimaru has all of his senses back, he still knows his father's soul better than anything.





	Lost and Found

Jukai's hands slid over the polished wood of the prosthetic foot, checking it for any splinters or rough edges. His fingers brushed the smooth surface with practiced care. He had done this hundreds of times now, but never rushed a job or let mistakes slide. 

The foot was perfect though. 

Jukai attached it to the base of his patient's incomplete leg, careful not to press too hard on the amputated limb. 

The small boy looked down in wonder as Jukai began to rotate the foot into various positions. It twisted and flexed on a realistic ankle joint, perfectly matched to his height, weight, and foot size. 

"Why don't you give that a try?" Jukai prompted, offering his hand and helping the boy to his feet. 

He stumbled a bit on his first step, gasping at the pressure the prosthetic put on his severed leg. He looked up at the craftsman, concern and pain in his eyes. 

"You're doing great," Jukai encouraged. "Your leg is still sensitive, but this will become easier with practice."

The boy nodded, gritting his teeth. With the support of Jukai's arm, he began to pace in small circles. With every step he seemed to gain confidence. After a few circuits around the work room, the boy let go of his arm and began to support his full weight. He walked with a slight limp, but seemed steady on his feet. 

Jukai watched with pride as the boy walked outside and called to his waiting parents. When his mother saw him, grinning despite the pain and standing on his own two feet, she burst into joyful tears. She gathered her son into a hug and beamed at Jukai. 

"Thank you. Thank you so much!"

Her husband bowed deeply in gratitude. 

"We can never repay this debt. But every year when the harvest comes, we will send a portion of our finest crops," he promised. 

Jukai smiled warmly and placed a hand on the father's shoulder. 

"Your kindness is appreciated, but not necessary. Spare what you can, but look after yourselves above all else."

He turned to the boy and handed him a small ceramic pot.

"Take good care of that foot. Apply this polish every few days and make sure it doesn't freeze in the winter. You'll also want to avoid putting too much pressure on your leg for a few weeks. Try walking with a crutch until the wound becomes less sensitive. That foot should last you a few years, but if you ever need help with it, you will always be welcome here."

The boy grinned and then imitated his father's deep bow. 

"Thank you Jukai-san," he breathed.  

Jukai watched the little family as they walked away. The boy was leaning heavily on the crutch he had arrived with, but there was a new energy in his steps. Before they rounded the bend, the family turned and waved at him. Jukai returned the gesture, glad that their trip had been worthwhile. 

Then they turned the corner and vanished from view. 

For a moment Jukai let himself linger in the shade of his home, staring down the rough road. A swirl of autumn leaves twisted through the air, marking the change of the seasons once again. 

Jukai heaved a deep sigh and retreated back to his workshop. He carefully stored his various tools and cleaned his well-worn table. As he bent down to grab some scrap wood for a fire, he glanced at a familiar collection that was hidden below his work station. 

A cluster of prosthetic legs, arms, wrists, fingers, and feet were tucked neatly away on a low shelf. All of them were perfectly sized for one specific person. A person Jukai hadn't seen in five years, and a person he wasn't certain he'd ever see again. He reached out to touch one of the limp wooden hands, but stopped himself. 

He knew that if he let himself dwell on the memories of Hyakkimaru, he would drift into a dark and lonely place. He couldn't do that again. He had customers who depended on him. He needed to keep going for their sake.  

* * *

The next morning dawned with a powdering of snow. While he brewed his strong morning tea, Jukai watched the lightly falling flakes through a window. It would soon get too cold for him to have open windows, so he wanted to enjoy the sight while it lasted. 

A fond smile touched his lips as he remembered Hyakkimaru's first experience with snow many years ago. 

They had been out in the garden on a still grey morning. Jukai had been clearing out the shriveled plants to prepare for the next growing season. Hyakkimaru had been sitting on the ground nearby, watching a cluster of birds in a leafless tree. Jukai still wasn't entirely sure how it worked, but it seemed like Hyakkimaru must have some form of sight. He reacted to Jukai's movements and was able to navigate through the forest without trouble. As he turned his head to watch the birds take flight, Jukai wondered what the world looked like to him. 

He hoped it was beautiful. 

As he had paused in his work, watching Hyakkimaru, white flakes began to drift down from the sky. One of the small flecks landed on Hyakkimaru's protective mask. He didn't react to this new sensation. Jukai remembered that he couldn't tell the difference between different temperatures and was struck by a new idea. 

He walked over to Hyakkimaru and gently removed his mask. With his face now exposed to the sky, Jukai prodded at his cheeks, signaling for him to open his mouth. He did so, tilting his face upwards. 

After a few moments of waiting, a snowflake drifted into his mouth and melted on his tongue. Hyakkimaru jumped slightly as the tiny trickle of water slid down his throat. He glanced over at Jukai, then lifted one of his palms up to the sky, looking back and forth. 

Jukai grinned as he realized what he was doing. Hyakkimaru had felt rain before and seemed confused that he couldn't feel the pressure of raindrops hitting his face and limbs. The snow was much lighter, touching him without pressure and then melting on contact. 

It must have been strange experience, but he didn't seem to mind. He continued to sit still, head tilted to the sky, catching snowflakes in his mouth. 

Jukai smiled as the memory faded. Hyakkimaru experienced the world in such a different way. It was humbling to be a part of such a unique life. For a moment, he allowed himself to wonder where he was now. 

Had he regained any more of his limbs? Could he see with real eyes now? Did he ever think about his first home? Would he even know the way back if he wanted to return?

Jukai's stomach sank as this familiar worry returned. 

He had spent countless nights thinking about Hyakkimaru. Every thought was spent worrying about where he could be, what kind of people he was associating with, what accidents or injuries could have occurred. But in the end, he always had to remind himself that he had done all he could.

He had given Hyakkimaru the best chance he could offer. If the boy was willing and able, he would find a way to return home. 

Jukai pushed the worries to the back of his mind and breathed in the calming fragrance of his tea. His thoughts drifted to his workload and the uncertainty the next few weeks would bring.

With the change from fall to winter, he often had a period with very few patients to help. Now that the harvest was over, there was a lower risk of people being harmed by farming accidents. Once winter set in, frostbite frequently claimed the hands and feet of those who travelled through the snow. 

These periods without accident were a good thing. People were staying safe and healthy during these times. But they also left Jukai without distraction or purpose. He had enough food stored to outlast the lean times, but days without work were long and lonely. He was isolated from any nearby villages, and his only visitors were patients in need of a prosthetic or repair. On rare occasions, a previous patient would make a return trip to bring him food, clothing, or supplies to show their gratitude. 

If it was a slow day, Jukai took some time to talk with them and gather news of the world outside his small patch of land. He didn't usually learn much. His patients were humble people, working hard and staying away from the people in power. They talked about their families, their crops, and the successes of their hunting and fishing endeavors.

Tales of epic battles, monsters, and demon-slayers were never mentioned. 

* * *

After breakfast, Jukai wandered over to his work station and spent some time deciding how to occupy himself. After a few minutes of deliberation, he decided it was time to sharpen and polish his woodcarving tools. They didn't desperately need it, but maintenance was important. It would be hard to get replacements if he let something rust or splinter. 

As he ran a whetstone over the blade of a curved knife, he heard a sound from outside. He had become extremely good at picking out the sound of approaching footsteps and voices. He carefully put the knife back in its place and got to his feet. 

The voices... no voice, grew more distinct as he made his way through the house. It sounded like there was more than one person approaching though. As he neared the front entrance, he heard the voice of a child say,

"Is this the place Aniki? It's nice, but it's really quiet. Do you think anyone's home? Does he still live here?"

A small smile touched Jukai's mouth as he recognized a familiar scenario. Siblings frequently came together, supporting their brother or sister in place of their parents. It sounded like the younger brother of this duo was quite chatty. 

He stepped outside to greet the newcomers and froze. 

Two boys were approaching the house. One of them looked like he was about 10 years old. Large, curious eyes swept his surroundings as he talked and questioned endlessly. But the other one...

He was taller than the last time Jukai had seen him. His long hair was pulled away from his face, the way he had been taught. His dark clothing was worn and frayed in places, but looked well cared for. But his face.... his limbs... everything was different.

The small boy stopped his chattering as he spotted Jukai standing frozen in the doorway. 

"Oh! Is that him?" he asked, tugging on Hyakkimaru's sleeve. 

And then Hyakkimaru looked up. Dark, gleaming eyes stared at Jukai. It was a gaze he had felt thousands of times, but never like this.

Before he knew it, he had rushed down the stairs and was standing in front of Hyakkimaru. He wanted to speak. He wanted to call out Hyakkimaru's name, embrace him, drink him in. But he felt as frozen and mute as Hyakkimaru had been as a child.

The boy's lips parted slightly. He raised one arm slowly, reaching towards him. Fingers, flesh instead of wood, touched Jukai's face. 

"Ju...kai," he said slowly. "Father."

Tears welled up in his eyes. Without another word, he collapsed against Jukai's chest, arms encircling him in a tight embrace. Jukai buried his face in Hyakkimaru's hair, clutching him to his heart. He finally realized that tears were flooding down his own cheeks as he stood there, holding his son. 

He was here. He was here in his arms; small and warm and familiar. In some ways it was like he had never left. 

But as he listened to his son's soft sobs, felt his tears against his shoulder, felt his trembling arms, he realized how much had changed. 

After what felt like an eternity, they broke apart. Tears still flowed down Hyakkimaru's face, though he bore it without shame. Jukai wiped his own tears away and finally turned his attention to the young boy, who had been hovering awkwardly by the side of this reunion. 

Hyakkimaru followed his gaze and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. 

"This is Do... roro," he said haltingly. "My ototo."

Jukai smiled at Dororo and bowed deeply. 

"Thank you. Thank you for being there for my son," he whispered. Dororo laughed self consciously and replied,

"Yeah, he needed a lot of help. He knows how to fight, but can barely look after himself! Lucky I was there."

Jukai looked between the two boys. Hyakkimaru stood close to his side, his hand lingering on the young boy's shoulder. The renewed contact and easy sense of comfort between the two was easy to see. They were truly close, comfortable and happy in each other's presence. Friends and brothers in equal measure. 

"Will you both... stay?" Jukai asked, desperately hopeful. 

Hyakkimaru hesitated before replying,

"There are... no more demons. But still monsters. People that need help."

"We've been traveling between villages. There have been a lot of monsters and angry spirits, plus a lot of people are getting caught up in battles. Aniki wanted to come here as soon as he got he killed the last demon though," Dororo elaborated. 

A warm smile spread across Jukai's face as he heard this. So his son had done more than just reclaim his own body. He had spent time helping others and forming relationships too. It was so much more than he had ever dared to hope for and yet...

"Will you at least stay for the night? I want to hear everything."

To his surprise, Hyakkimaru hung his head in response. His fingers fidgeted against the worn fabric of his clothes and he seemed to be struggling to find the right words. After a long moment he muttered,

"I wanted... to see you. To thank you for making me strong. But I don't... deserve to stay."

Jukai's stomach dropped as he saw fresh tears begin to drip down Hyakkimaru's cheeks. Dororo looked at him in concern and gripped his hand tightly. 

"I didn't understand what pain, sadness, and... and death meant. But I saw it out there. And I... hurt people too."

 He fell silent, staring at the ground. Dororo looked nervously between Hyakkimaru and Jukai, unsure how to react.

Jukai gave the boy a reassuring smile and stepped forward. He placed his hands on Hyakkimaru's trembling shoulders and said,

"I understand. I've seen terrible things out in the world. I've done terrible things as well, causing pain and heartache for so many people. But know this,"

He cupped Hyakkimaru's face in his hands, tilting his tear-stained face upwards.

"There's nothing in this world that can break my love for you," he promised. "Whatever you've done is in the past. You're here now. You're home."

Hyakkimaru stared at him in fragile wonder. In his eyes, Jukai saw a reflection of emotions he had been battling with for years. Regret, pain, and the haunting feeling that you could never be redeemed or worthy of love. In so many ways they were the same. But they had never been able to share their feelings until now. Until this singular, vulnerable moment.

Hyakkimaru's eyes slid closed. After a long moment, a smile, small and gentle, touched his mouth. 

"Your soul... is the same. Large and kind."

He opened his eyes and nodded to Dororo. With his free hand, he reached out and took Jukai's hand. As Jukai felt the warmth and strength of his grip, the loneliness of the years seemed to melt away. Even after everything that had happened and all the time that had passed, Hyakkimaru was still his son.

He turned and led the way to the small house that had been Hyakkimaru's first home. Together, the three of them walked up the steps, hand in hand. He ushered the two boys inside and slid the door gently closed. Everyone was home now, safe and together. 

Everyone was safe in the home where everything had begun. 

 


End file.
